Vision Quest
by ginevrapulliza
Summary: “I had an idea that may work for you. A Vision Quest.” “What’s that?” “Done correctly is a potion that will allow you to visit a possible future. Or in this case, possible futures.”


**Disclaimer:** If Harry Potter belonged to me, it could have had a completely different ending. So obviously it doesn't. I'm also broke so please don't sue.

I want to thanks _TwilightAngel08_ for beta reading this for me. Its means the world to me, so thanks.

And now enjoy the first chapter of 'Vision Quest' and don't forget to** review.**

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**Vision Quest**

_A __Familiar__ Conversation_

Harry opened his eyes all the way when he heard the door closed after her. He knew it was cowardly of him. Pretending to be sleep and letting her go the way she did. But he did not have the courage to face her. To face what he had done. Especially because he had no idea how it happened.

He did not ask himself why. He did know that much. She was beautiful after all. More than that, she was sexy as hell. So he was pretty sure why he let himself go all the way with her the night before. But what really eluded his mind was how it all came to be. The last thing he remembered was talking with his best friend and then…

He sighed, pretty much like the young witch had done before leaving the room they had been in, because everything was clear in his head. The night before there had been a party, Professors Flitwick's and Sprout's idea to help the students get out of the funk they had fallen over the past few months. After the end of the Tournament and Cedric's death.

He hadn't wanted to go at the start. Part of it was that there was a lot of speculation going on around him, since the Ministry refused to accept that Voldemort was back. Everybody who didn't outright believe him thought that he was either crazy or an attention-seeking brat. And truthfully a night full of gossip and half-covered looks wasn't how he wanted to pass that Halloween.

In the end, his friends had guilted him into going. And while he had gone, he hadn't felt like having a good time. Fact was the highlight of his night was talking to Hermione. Or at least he thought so at the beginning of the conversation.

To be honest, it caught him completely by surprise when she made her confession. When she told him she had fallen for him. That she had tried to fight it but it had been in vain. How much she really cared, and how she liked to know if maybe, just maybe someday he could feel the same. If they could give having a relationship a shot. He could still see the hurt in her eyes when he practically flew without saying anything.

He remembered tripping over Cho Chang, the girl he had lusted after for what seemed like years. He had talked with her then, apologizing at first, and then just talking because as long as he was with her, he did not have to face Hermione. But then she had to introduce the 'us' in the conversation and he had flown once again.

That was when he committed the worse of his mistakes. He had decided that Seamus was right after all, and that getting drunk was the way to go. He had not managed it though. A couple of glasses at the top, before she found him.

Ginny.

It had been the worry on her eyes that did it for him. Or maybe it was his lowered inhibitions. Or a combination of both. But he had spent the night with her. Getting to know her in a way he never really let himself fully consider for fear of her brothers.

But what had been a good idea in the moonlight, now only made him feel like the worse of cads.

Not knowing what else to do, he threw an arm over his eyes and prayed for unconsciousness.

~*~*~*~

He avoided everyone for two days. It was not really a difficult task. Ron, his best male friend, was in the hospital wing after a nasty potion accident and Hermione, his best female friend, was pretending he did not exist. She was obviously hurt at his less than polite response to her confession of her feelings. He really did not hang out that much with the rest of his year mates, and the only person he really wanted to be around was avoiding him as well.

He did not blamed her for avoiding him, anymore than he blamed Hermione for resenting him like she did. In a way, what he did to her was worse that rejected her. While he may not have voiced any promise that night, he sure had made them. With his caresses and with his kisses. When he had given her everything he had to give and accepted everything she offered to him in return. Just to let her leave the next morning.

Worse still, he was not sure he really could regret what happened between them. However much he regretted the way he treated her.

He looked for sanctuary that night in an abandoned classroom close to the Astronomy Tower. He had found that particular room thanks to the map that once belonged to his father. And even though it was supposed to be closed up to everyone, he only needed to tap twice with his wand on the doorknob to gain access to the inside.

He had been going to that room regularly since the end of last semester. After the death of his fellow champion, Cedric and since the return of Voldemort. Since then he had not seen anyone even near said room, he believed he was the only one who knew how to get in. For that reason more than for anything else, he was surprised to find that night someone else already inside the room.

The woman- because with the body form, not completely hiding thanks to robes, and her long hair, could not be anything else- was looking through a window. A cigarette in her hand. She seems oblivious to her surroundings as she ignored him completely and continues watching the moon.

"I'm sorry." He said turning round to leave "I did not know there was someone here."

"I was waiting for you." She said before he could leave the room, finally turning around to meet him face to face.

He was sure she did not belong to Hogwarts. For once, he had never seen her before that moment. And for another, there was something about her, that cried ancient and ethereal. _On second thought_, he smiled inwardly, _she looks exactly like someone who belongs in Hogwarts. Pure magical._

"You were?" He asked mildly. After everything he been through since joining the Wizarding world, nothing surprised him anymore.

"Why don't you have a sit Mr. Potter and I tell you about myself?"

He arched an eyebrow in a manner he had copied from professor McGonagall, but sat nonetheless. The woman smiled and sat in a desk in front of him. Harry could not take his eyes of her face. There was something there, he supposed it was the magic he had perceive earlier. Otherwise he was at loss as to why she claimed his attention. She was not what you could call beautiful; she was actually, rather plain. But there was magic there. In her half smile. In her eyes.

"I have to confess to be surprised, Mr. Potter. I expected you to be more curious as to whom I am. What I want with you." She said then took the cigarette in her mouth, her eyes on his face. Cold, but speculative.

He shrugged and sat farther back on the desk. "You were going to tell me, or so you first claimed. What do I need to be curious about?" he said dryly. In truth, he was just tired of caring. Of being curious and finding out things that he later wished had stayed occulted.

She seems to believe his first statement or pretended to, because she did not commented on that again. Lowering the cigarette, she threw him a small smile.

"What do you know about familiars?"

"Familiars?" he asked nonplused. "They are magical helpers with whom Wicca practitioners have a psychic connection. Familiars are said to warn those they are bound to of danger, protect them, and defend them. They also believe to have healing powers."

"Did you swallow a textbook?" she asked him amusedly. Unfortunately that remark made him thought of Hermione and the way she always seems to know everything. "You are right on essence. Though, we are a bit more than just magical helpers."

"We?"

"Caught that did you?" she sounded pleased. "We, familiars, are magical charged spirits whom exists for the whole purpose of protecting and caring for the Wicca practitioners we are bonded to. However what you may not know is that we are bonded to different people through our lives. We are immortal beings. Or as immortal as you can get."

"How does that work?" Harry asked finally showing some interest, "How do you choose the ones you bond to? Aren't familiars supposed to be animals?" he paused as a thought cross his head, "Are you my familiar? That's why you are here?"

She laughed, pleased now with his enthusiasm.

"No, I'm not your familiar. I believe you call her Hedwig? You should not get your hopes up, though. Even if she is your familiar, you'll never be able to talk to her the same way we are talking right now."

"Why?" he seems really put out at that.

"Because it's not allowed."

"What do you mean is not allowed? You guys have rules?"

"Please, rules existed since the begging of time, unfortunately. As to your other questions is simple. We serve a Higher Power. They are the ones who choose or charge for us. And we have to stay with them since they first enter the magical community, or when they start to perform magic in the case of half-blood and pure-bloods, which are exposed to the magical world since birth. Until they are ready to live their lives without us watching for them."

"Then what happens?"

"We are told very little about our next assignment. Of course, we have two weeks of vacation between assignments to do as we please."

"What kind of vacation can an animal have?" he asked completely baffled.

"I'll have you know that we are not only animals. We are magical creatures too, whatever we need to be in order to protect our charges. You could say we are kind of shape shifters. Though in reality we are spirits. The Higher Power, for wish we work for, granted us any form we chose for our vacation."

"So, you really don't look like this?"

"No, my real form is an abstract one."

"An abs… never mind, I'm pretty sure I'll never understand it without Hermione he…" He stopped himself because thinking about her hurt him too much. He really missed her. Just thinking about what her reaction to the whole conversation he was just having was enough to depress him. "So if you're not my familiar what do you want with me?"

"Well it seems Mr. Potter that you are related to my next charge."

"Related how? Because the only relatives I have are the Dursleys and somehow I doubt that any of them are in need of a familiar."

"Oh I could not say. I don't know. The thing about my work is that I never know when I'm being sent until I got there."

"When?"

"Yes, when. You'll be surprise to how many different times I have been. Just my last assignment took me to the medieval ages."

"Wow."

"That pretty much covers it. For all I know my next assignment could be to either your great, great, great, great grandson or to your great, great, great, great grandfather."

He was quiet for a moment before asking her, "What do you want with me?"

"Like I said, you are related to my next assignment, and of course, Hedwig asked me to see you." She inhaled from the cigarette that had been lying on her hand almost forgotten. Then she give him a sad half smile, "She can't talk to you the way I'm doing it right now, and boy, do you need help."

"Excuse me?"

"Now look what I done. I offended you. I'm sorry; I did not meant it in a bad way. You are just in a bad phase right now."

"Gee thanks, because that made me feel so much better."

She laughed at his disgruntled tone.

"Come on, I promised Hedwig I would help you somehow."

"Can you stop Voldemort? Can you help with the war?"

"No."

"Can you make people believe me about the fact the he is back?"

"No."

"Can you stop the rumors going on about me and Dumbledore?"

"No."

"Then how are you going to help me?" She was silent for a few minutes apparently at loss on how to help him after all, "Can you…? I mean, is there any way that you can make it so I can communicate with someone who is, well, dead?" he asked then, thinking of his parents.

"I don't have that kind of power. I'm sorry."

Harry stood up and began walking towards the door, "Thanks for the sentiment, but you obviously can't help me."

"Aww come on, don't be like that." She sounded like a petulant child, which made an interesting contrast with her actual form. "I promised Hedwig I'd help you somehow. Wait, I know." She said in an urgent tone because he had reached the door. "I'll help you with your love life."

"Come again."

"Your love life. And don't lie and say you have no trouble with it, because you are a teenager. If my job as a familiar had taught me anything is that teenagers always have a love drama going on."

She sounded pretty smug now and he turned around to see that the cigarette had disappeared and she had stood up too, folding her arms on her chest.

"I'm beginning to understand why familiars can't talk to the ones their bound to." He said in a stage whisper.

"I am right, aren't I? So tell what's the problem?" she seems eager now as she sat down once again.

"I'm so going to regret this." Harry murmured to himself as he walked back towards the desk he had been sitting before. His cheeks Weasley red.

"Let me guess. You like this girl who completely ignores you existence?"

"Don't I wish?"

"Mm. Oh I know. The girl you like had a big scary boyfriend, right?" he answered with his head no. "Is the boyfriend a friend of yours?" another no. "Is she ugly? Fat? Have lots of warts on her face?"

"None of the above, and besides I'm not that shallow." Then he added as an afterthought, "I think".

"Well then I give up. Tell me what's the problem."

He was tempted to tell her that he should have done that from the beginning without wasting time trying to guess. But he really did not want to offend her, lest she decided not to help him after all and he _really_ needed help, now that he thought about it.

"There are three girls I care about. All in different ways, of course. The last thing I want to do is hurt them but… say that the three girls have feelings for me. Romantically speaking. What do I do?"

"That is?" she seems disappointed somehow. "That's easy, tell two of them 'thanks but no thanks' and ask the one you like best out."

"That's the worst advice I had ever hear."

"Well excuse me. But I'm an asexual being, you know? I don't really understand this 'feelings'." She sighed then as twirl her fingers, then a new cigarette appeared. "I'm sorry I guess that was pretty callous of me."

"You guess?" Harry asked her dryly.

"I deserved that. Now let's see. Tell me about these girls."

"Well, there's Hermione. She had been my best friend since I was eleven years old. I used to think of her like a sister before all this but now… she is pretty I suppose. And I don't think that being with her could be that difficult. I mean, I care about her. A lot. I just don't want to hurt her. I don't want to lose her friendship. She always had been there for me when I needed her.

"Then there is Cho. I was obsessed with her for years before she paid me any attention. She is beautiful in an exotic kind of way. Very intelligent; she is a Ravenclaw after all. We have Quidditch in common and I think she had been through a lot of bad stuff in the last couple of months.

"And of course, there's Ginny. I really messed up with her. Badly. She is so amazing. There's no stopping her on a broom. She is the kind of person that no matter how hard life came at her, she isn't on the ground for long. She is powerful, the most powerful witch I know. And warm. She gives you everything she had if she thought you need it. She gets me in a lever that no one else does and even though I had treated her real bad for years, she is always been there when I need her."

"Is she pretty?"

"She is like a walking wet dream." Harry did not mean to say that aloud, so he was blushed once he realized what he just said.

She just laughed at him.

"Well," she started after the laughing fit, "The three of them sounded really great. I guess you don't really know where your heart lies, right?"

"I guess. I just don't want to hurt any of them."

"But you'll have to. Unless you'll get them to share, which I doubt."

"I couldn't." he said even though to the teenager in him the idea has it appeal. "They'll kill me for suggesting it."

"I had an idea that may work for you. A _Vision Quest_."

"What's that?"

"Done correctly is a potion that will allow you to visit a possible future. Or in this case, possible futures."

"Possible?"

"The future is not set in stone. It can change. It does changes constantly. With our actions, with our choices. Now listen carefully, here's how it works: It's pretty much cause and effect. You make a choice and the potion will show you the consequences of that choice."

"Does it really work?"

"Yes, it does. But you have to remember that the future is suggestive. Not everything that the _Vision Quest_ will show you is going to happen. It can happen, but that depends on the choices you make."

"What do I have to do?"

~*~*~

She gave him a list of potion ingredients and sent him to gather them. He really didn't think of anything while he went to look for them.

Once he was out of the classroom and away from the familiar though, his brain had run wild with him. Part of him was worried that he had created the whole thing. That he never really talked with a familiar. The other part was wondering if the twins weren't playing a prank on him, which he knew was a real possibility. He had half talked himself into not going back and forgetting the whole thing, when he saw Hermione.

She was coming from the library, and she had some books with her. She was walking side by side with a girl from Hufflepuff that he did not recognize. The girl beside her said something that made her smile, though he could see it wasn't a real smile. She was tense, and his heart broke at seeing her that way.

Harry forced himself to be objective for a moment and looked at her carefully, he had not lied to the familiar, Hermione was pretty, he just hadn't realized it until now.

Knowing he had more to lose than his dignity, if in fact it was a prank from the twins, he got the rest of the ingredients and went back to the classroom.

~*~*~*~

Harry wrinkled his nose at the odor of the potion. While it wasn't the most unpleasant thing he had ever smell, it wasn't roses either. He had committed to memory, both the ingredients and the instruction. If it worked as promise, he may find himself trying it again in the future, though in reference to the war and not his love life.

That, hopefully, will be resolved after tonight. One way or another.

"Now add two drops of your blood. But be precise. It has to be just two. More than that and all of your work will be wasted and we'll have to start from scratch again."

She handed him a dagger and Harry stopped for a minute, surprise. Why a familiar needed such a weapon was beyond him, but he had to appreciate it anyway. It _was_ a beautiful blade.

She saw him eying the dagger with appreciation and smiled at him, "It's an Athame. A ceremonial double-edged dagger. I found this particular knife most intriguing, both for its esthetic beauty and the power it contains."

"Where did you get it?" It was cold in his hand and took him a minute to realize that it was made of some kind crystal. There was a diamond on the hilt. "God, there's so much power in here." He was breathless now; he could feel the power from the dagger penetrating his skin, dancing on his veins. He had never felt anything remotely similar to that.

"I borrowed it from your redheaded wet dream."

"Come again?" he was surprised enough to lift his eyes from the knife in his hand to her face.

"Your Ginny has quite the collection. But don't worry, I'll return this one before she realizes it's gone." She said it with such regrets that Harry knew that if familiars could covet something that was it for her. "She'll know for sure that someone took it afterward. There's no going around that. But she'll never be able to trace it to me." The smile she give him then was one that made him think of the twins, "She can, and probably, would, trace it to you, so I think you should mention this," she gestured with a hand between them, "whole thing to her sometime."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, there's no point of procrastinating any longer. Go ahead and put the blood in." Harry did as instructed then she give him a pad of paper, a quill, some ink and a burning candle. "This part is the easiest of all, yet at the same time the most trickiest. You have to be very precise in what you wish to be shown on your quest. Otherwise you're going to end in a journey of self-discovery that, will good for one's self, it has nothing to do with the present problem you wish to resolve. Are you with me so far?"

"I think so."

She passed him a clean cup and he filled up with some potion, after he added the blood not only changed in color – from mud brown to navy blue – but in odor too. Now it's smell of sweets. Sugar. He hoped it taste like it too.

"Are you ready?" He nodded. "Well, go ahead. But be careful with the wording."

"Well, here goes nothing."

_What do I want to see?_ He asked in his mind, _who do I want to see it with?_

He thought for a moment the best way to phrase what he wanted to know, then coming to a decision; he took the pad of paper, the quill and dipping it into the ink, and started to write. Once he finished, he folded the paper and burned it with the candle, then threw it into the potion.

With a very small explosion the paper or its ashes were consumed inside the potion as well. The later changed color again, from navy blue to a soft pink. With a small grimace, he brought it to his lips and drank.

It didn't hurt; it didn't feel like anything he had endured in his life either. In fact it was the lack of feelings that startled him. Harry could felt the numbness spreading over his body and for a brief moment he started to panic. Then he heard her voice from afar.

"Don't fight it. You have nothing to worry about. Just let go."

_No_, he wanted to say, he didn't want to let go. But he couldn't speak. He could hardly think at the moment, and with little clarity he asked himself if everything has been a trap after all, only not to make him look like a idiot, but to kill him. It could serve him right for been a trusting fool.

"Let go, Harry. It just worse if you fight it."

And even though he didn't want to, even though he was fighting against it, he could see himself becoming one with the blackness that was threatening him.

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